


A Dalish Tradition

by inheritanceofgeek



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fígrid February, If Tolkien can have dragons then I can have a printing press for mass produced books, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, Noise Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with a hint of Plot, Quiet Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering, almost getting caught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-20 06:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9479204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inheritanceofgeek/pseuds/inheritanceofgeek
Summary: The palace of Dale has lots of tiny alcoves and empty corridors perfect to fit two, and to not put them to use would be a crying shame on everyone's behalf.However Fíli and Sigrid still need to keep things quiet unless they want to get found out. The problem is Sigrid has always found being quiet rather difficult and can't help the tiny noises she makes when faced with her handsome dwarf, who luckily can't seem to get enough of them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> From the tumblr prompt by earllagerthas: 
> 
> "Fili/Sigrid obviously; semi-public sex (clothed sex-ish…well he’s fingering her and there’s probably dry humping going on for him) in an alcove/storage room in a deserted, out-of-the-way hallway in the new palace in Dale; Fili gets off on all the little/quiet noises Sigrid makes trying to not make noise."
> 
> Yes I know it's 3 years since the prompt was posted but I found it deep in the tag and knew that if it didn't exist than it needed to. 
> 
> Thanks go to MagicMarker for the beta and persuasion =)

The city of Dale had always possessed a certain reputation for the romantic. Oh it was true that the elves and their descendants had a monopoly on the kind of flowery, tragic tales of destiny that made young teens swoon and sigh, but Dale was where the far more interesting stories came from. They were the kind those same teens would later find and secretly store underneath their beds where their guardians might not find them, unaware that they were the same stories that their parents had hidden there themselves when they too were young. 

Part of the appeal was that Dale was the cultural hub of Middle Earth. They had dealings with elves and dwarves alike. Merchants would travel from across the eastern sea and up the winding river to sell their wares, meaning there was always something new and exciting happening (the only race not represented was the hobbits who had their own, steamier stories to occupy them). They were far enough away from most of the other major realms of men that it added a certain air of exotic excitement to it all. Then there was the city itself, a prominent feature in any  _ true _ Dalish tale.

It was a labyrinth of streets and bridges surrounded by towering, voluptuous cream-coloured buildings with warm red-tiled roofs. Statues guarded small alcoves and benches, the perfect place to have a break from your shopping, or perhaps to find a moment of privacy with that tall, dark and handsome stranger whose eyes you’d met whilst reaching for the same blood red apple.

The newly restored palace reflected the same architecture, providing plenty of places to hide away from prying eyes. It would have been a shame, Sigrid had said, for the workers to have gone to such a great effort to fit the stone work so neatly, and then not put every inch of it to good use. 

“We probably shouldn’t be here,” whispered Fíli his voice dusting across her skin in the confined space. 

“You’re welcome to go back to the meeting if you want to,” she replied, brushing her lips against his cheek, “but I thought you wanted me to show you around our new home.”  She linked their fingers together and brought his hand up to palm at her breast through her dress, drawing a startled breath from them both as he began to knead at her. They began to drag long, slow kisses from each other as though they had all the time in the world and were not in danger of being caught at any moment. Sigrid let out a tiny whimper when Fíli pulled away and the sound of it sent a shiver down his spine. 

He kissed her again, harder this time and relished in the way her mouth meted against him, so eager and willing to respond. His hand began to frantically push down the sleeve of her dress as he reached to feel the soft skin of her breast. She released another tiny gasp as he began to pinch at her hardened nipple. The more she tried to keep quiet, the more Fíli wondered how loud she could be. Just exactly how much of her pleasure was she holding back from him? He dipped his head upon her exposed breast in investigation, flicking his tongue across her and getting another delicious peep of sound as a reward. He looked up at as he continued to suck at her, and saw the way her teeth bit down hard upon her already reddened lips. It sent another shock wave pulsing through his core, causing him to release his own groan that was held back by his lips still clamped tightly around her breast. She let out a quavering whimper at the increased sensation and Fíli was desperate to discover what other sounds she might make.

“Let me touch you Sigrid,” he whispered into her neck. “You must be so wet by now, the noises you’re making. I want to feel it Sigrid. Let me feel you, please.” 

She clearly didn't trust herself to speak as she gave a tight, frantic nod, already lifting her skirt to allow him better access. He whispered a hoarse “thank you” into her ear and slipped his hand to press against her thigh. The evidence of her arousal was already dripping down her skin, and he let out a small grunt that matched her own.

He gently ran his fingers through the coarse hair across her mound, enjoying the tiny sigh that it brought out in her. He slowly trailed his hand back down to her core, and carefully spread her open. She really was soaked to the touch, his fingers making slick sounds that were only echoed by her squeaks of pleasure.

His trousers were uncomfortably tight by now, but he let the strain continue as he began to tease her entrance with tiny crooks of his fingers. His thumb began to rub at her clit in light, delicate circles, barely pulling back the hood. She opened her mouth to yell but her own hand clamped flat down against it and Fíli laughed at the look of desperate, needy shock in her eyes. She wanted more, Mahal knew he was willing to give it to her, but she still feared what (or rather whom) her shouts might bring.  _ Gods _ he wanted to hear her scream. It would be his name, over and over again until the whole mountain crumbled...  a rumbling shock of lighting ricocheted through him and he felt his cock strain further against its prison. But that could wait. Right now he needed to finish the task at hand.

He pushed a finger inside of Sigrid at last and marvelled at the strangled gasp she let out. Her hand braced herself against the wall as her hips jutted forward on their own accord. He began to pump his finger in and out of her, taking a moment to spread her wetness further along her sex, allowing him to easily glide across her bud of nerves. She panted into every touch, writhing against the wall and thrusting herself into him, each movement combined with a tiny whimper or groan that set Fíli’s blood--

Suddenly there was a noise from the end of the corridor. Footsteps; someone was coming down their way. The pair froze, praying to any god that might be listening that their alcove was obscured enough by the statue in front of it. They could hear voices now, getting louder and louder by the second. Sigrid gulped, her body still squirming against where Fíli’s fingers were locked inside of her. He couldn't bring himself to let go though. If they were caught there would be no denying what was going on between them anyway, and Sigrid’s open-mouthed mix of ecstasy and fear sent yet another jolt of energy spiralling through him. He couldn’t help but twitch his fingers against her walls, just once and oh so lightly, but enough to draw a deep gasp that she immediately stifled with a fist. The strangers stopped for a moment just a few meters from where they were, and Fíli could tell they were listening out for where the sound had come from. However when no other noise came, the strangers continued onwards, not giving their alcove a second glance.

Sigrid let out a sigh of relief that he felt shift through his fingers. “You bastard,” she murmured. “Do you know how close I was to giving us away then?”

“Yes, and I also know just how much you loved it.” He emphasised his point with another press of his thumb and Sigrid let out a whimpering groan.

“Which is  _ why _ you’re a bastard. Now please,” she begged, “get back to it.  _ Gods _ , I need you to feel you again.”

“With pleasure, my lady.” He whispered, taking the slight break in the moment to suck a kiss against her collarbone. She groaned and the grasp on her skirts tightened. Fíli watched hungrily as she swallowed each needy sound that threatened to burst from her lips. His fingers traced teasing patterns across her sex, circling a wet digit around her clit. Sigrid’s jaw dropped open at the sensation, her hand reaching up to clasp tight onto her breast and move it in time with his fingers. Fíli was all too easily distracted for a moment as he watched her play at herself. His fingers stilled at the thought of her own travelling down to meets his, how she would know exactly how to bring herself to the brink…  

“Fíli, don’t stop!” she croaked, “I’m so close, I can feel it, I can-- oh Fíli  _ please _ .”

“Well since you asked so nicely,” he replied, shocked at his own rasping breath. He quickened his pace against her, working in another finger and swapping between hard fast strokes and syncopated presses against her walls. Her breath caught in her mouth and he felt her begin to clench up around him. “That’s it Pretty Sigrid, come for me. Let me feel you shudder,” he coaxed, and Sigrid’s whole body began to quiver with the effort to not scream. Her orgasm seemed to span across every inch of her as she dragged herself against his patient hand, relishing in the last moments of ecstasy before she fell back against the alcove. She panted for a moment and Fíli felt a certain gleeful pride at the wreck he’d caused.

“Well,” chuckled Sigrid, swiping damp hair behind her ear. “That went places I wasn’t expecting. Fuck that was, that was much better than doing it myself. Gods, I’ll be filing that away for later.”

She was covered in sweat, her dress clinging to her slightly and a red mark was etched onto her breast from where she’d been holding onto it right up to the last moment. The sight caused Fíli’s pulse to quicken, but he needed to temper that. He’d had enough fun for now, he could sort himself out later on where mess wouldn’t be so much of a problem.

“I know I for one will be making the most of the memory. I will certainly be sleeping well tonight, that’s for sure.” 

Sigrid leant back towards him and rested her hands on his hips, “Why wait until tonight? I thought we might see about that right now.” Her thumbs just glanced across his erection, making stars pop behind his eyes for a split second. 

“Sig, that’s not--” his breath caught as she nuzzled against his neck. “Sigrid that’s not-- _uh_ \-- a good idea, I’ve nothing to-- _ooh_ _Sigrid_!” 

“Don’t worry, I’m good at keeping things neat.” She smiled, pressing a light kiss to his mouth before dropping to her knees. 

Even as she took him into her mouth and he watched those plump lips swallow him whole, Fíli longed for more. They needed a bed. They needed privacy. The next time they’d meet would be at his brother’s birthday celebration. They could easily slip away from everyone as Kíli’s adoration for Tauriel distracted all their guests from even bothering to look Fìli and Sigrid's way. There would be thick stone walls and lots of empty chambers where they could make all the noise they wanted without anyone ever needing to know. 

 

~*~

 

Rumour had not quite yet given way to speculation, but most people knew that  _ something  _ was certainly happening between the Lady Sigrid and Crowned Prince Fíli. On the surface, it was nothing more than comradeship, a sign of the slow building relationship between Dale and Erebor. They were kind and pleasant to one another at meetings, were usually the first to grace the dance floor at banquets, and every so often letters would pass between the city and the mountain with relaxed ease. However, there was a look about them which whispered of more. If you paid close attention, you might see how their eyes drifted across the room to find one another, or see a hand linger a little longer than perhaps it should. With great care you may even notice the flap of a raven’s wings as it flew to and from the mountain in the dead of night.

Bard was certainly not blind to it. He recognised the symptoms of love’s first blush in his daughter as easily as he had noticed them in himself nearly twenty-three years ago. As such, he was torn between not wanting to know what was happening when his daughter mysteriously slipped away from gatherings, and a deep need to warn her of how different their lives were now. As a bargeman’s daughter she might have been able to make the same wonderful, foolhardy mistakes Kendra and he had made; as a princess she needed to be far more careful. Yet even as he watched the flap of her skirts whip outside the side door of the banquet hall, he did not have the heart to run out and stop her. She was a far more sensible person then he had ever been, and he trusted his daughter to keep her wits about herself when faced with youthful romantic idiocy.

If push came to shove, a marriage between the two kingdoms would certainly be no bad thing, especially if it bought Sigrid the same kind of joy his own marriage had given him. So long as his daughter was kept happy, that was the main thing; judging by the looks he’d seen on her face, that dwarf of hers was certainly doing just that. 

  
Bard quickly downed his cup of wine at that thought and tried not to dwell on it any more than necessary. He had more important things on his mind tonight, namely, locating Thranduil. After all, it wasn’t only his daughter who knew how to make the most of a party. 

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoyed this? Let me know via comments/kudos or on tumblr where I'm mrsmarymorstan =)
> 
> Happy Fígrid February! I'm posting this at 00:02 GMT so it officially counts as such ;)


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